Water and Needles
by Makaria Lee
Summary: In which Ian was tortured by the Vespers. / Heavy on the trigger warnings.
1. Chapter 1

**This, like the genderbent, has been on tumblr for a while. On tumblr, this was a prequel to a one-shot (which turned into a multichap because of Eri and my muse), but here it makes more sense to post it chronologically. I'll probably post the next part tomorrow, then the next the day after that, and so on until I continue writing more installments (if I ever do. This is a bit hard to write).**

**Warnings: The entire plot of the fic centers around Ian having been tortured by the Vespers (this chapter shows some of the torture) so that settle as a warning. Future chapters may have mentions of suicide. Also OCs are mentioned.**

* * *

Being captured was part of the plan.

Arthur coming back to get them was part of the plan.

The Vespers realizing Arthur's betrayal and capturing all of them for real was not part of the plan.

(Of course, Ian thought bitterly, knowing Arthur it could've been his own secret plan. Although he doubted Arthur would've included the ten needles currently occupying the space underneath Ian's fingernails in his plan. Oh, it could be worse, he tried to say to himself, they could've shoved the entire needle down his finger instead of half. Of course, that just made him a bit more paranoid about what else they were going to do. Even so, just halfway in, the pain was hardly bearable. No - not even hardly. It wasn't the least bit tolerable, he remembered. Just twitching a finger any which way resurfaced that pain from... however long ago it had started. But it had numbed down, so that was decent.)

The door to the torture room slid open, revealing none other than Ian's mother. She walked, as she always did with the grace that her personality lacked, over so she stood in front of Ian. She offered him a satisfied smirk.

"You know, based on what's happened, you really shouldn't have let Elizabeth tag along with you."

Ian glared at her, trying his best not to clench his fists. "If you so much as look at her-"

Isabel clicked her tongue. "I wouldn't waste my time with someone so... fragile."

She took a step back as Ian rose up to attack her, though his restraints held him in place. She gave a cold chuckle. "Now, now, calm down. You'll only hurt yourself further."

Ian fell back into his chair, though his glare didn't let up. Neither did Isabel's.

She pouted and reached forward to grab Ian's chin. He lashed out to bite her. "Well, that attitude will get you nowhere. My poor son, deluded into an unsophisticated-"

"I am not your son," he growled, "in case you've forgotten the legal documents."

Isabel's smile slowly formed into a frown. Her hand snapped out suddenly, holding Ian's head back by his hair.

"You'd better be careful, saying such rude things to the one who controls your fate." Isabel's free hand reached down and grabbed Ian's hand, forcing out a hiss of pain from him. "She could very easily grant your curiosity." Still pinning his head back and his hand down, Isabel's thumb reached down to push the needle in Ian's thumb the rest of the way in. Ian bit his lip, though a scream still found its way out. "And you wouldn't want that, would you?

She forced his head farther back, prompting a tear to snake its way down his cheek. "Now, you're going to tell us what you and your little posse are up to, understand? Or we'll have to have a repeat of what just happened." She poked another needle, taunting the injury and emitting a cry from Ian. "Understand?"

* * *

Natalie curled herself up further, something Nellie didn't think she could do. With each scream that seeping through the walls, Natalie curled further and further as her hand pressed against her ears harder and harder.

"That sounded like Ian," she had whispered at the first scream (what Nellie assumed was) days ago. Nineteen screams (each getting weaker, though the tenth and eleventh had a long interval so the eleventh sounded like the first) later and Natalie was practically a small ball. Reagan had tried to comfort her, but Natalie persisted her formation. She hardly got up to eat anything.

A twentieth scream, what would be the final one, pierced through their walls, forcing Natalie further into her ball.

* * *

Isabel scowled at the mess that was her son. Hunched over and shivering after the final needle found its way through without a single confession from the boy.

She'd trained him too well.

She walked over to the intercom by the door, ordering two lesser agents to come by. Once they appeared, she jerked her head towards Ian. "Take him to room WB. Do not let him go until he has given us the information we need."


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is going to be as good as this fic gets, haha. This is original one-shot on which the rest of the fic was built around.**

* * *

She seems him in a state that she's never seen him in before: defeated. It's a horrifying thought - Ian Kabra has been defeated. Not completely, though, the persistent bastard didn't give away anything. But she can see, it's as plain as day, that he is a defeated, broken man.

His shoulders slumped over, head drooped numbly down so that his hair covered his face, his fingers twitching around (as if they had become accustomed to what had been underneath his nails, and that he was now looking for them since they had been removed).

When you walked into the room to talk to him, it was even worse. You could hear his shallow breathing, see his hollow eyes. He'd taken to biting his lip for some reason - Amy thought it was to stay silent when he wanted to scream - so he almost always had a bit of blood running down his chin.

The worst part was that he didn't ever bother to look out of the window, he just stared down at his bandaged hands. Amy was worried that he never slept.

Tired of standing in the door, she walked her way into his room (making sure that her shoes were loud, so that he was aware someone was coming).

This is the second time she's seen him, the first alone. She could barely handle seeing him the first time, she had to leave the room and wasn't able to reenter. To face him alone... She wished she'd shut and locked the door behind her.

"H-Hi, Ian." She whispered. His head twitches, as if he meant to look up at her but decided against it. "I wanted to talk. Is that okay?" He nods his head slowly, she's certain it's the most movement he's done in a long time.

She sits next to him on the bed, gingerly reaching out to grab one of his hands. He jerks it away at first, but leaves it out for her to take it again. She does. She doesn't know how to start the conversation - she needs to know that he'll be okay - so she just rubs his fingers. His breathing becomes quieter, so she continues on with the motion.

"I was so worried," she choked out. "I had nightmares for the longest time. My dad, Dan, Vesper 1, the others... and then you. When you left they got really bad. I thought you had-"

Ian leaned forward, putting his head on her shoulder. He maneuvered around a little, so that his nose was in the crook of her neck. Once she realized the reasoning behind the movement, she placed her head on top of his. "I just." She took a shaky breath as she placed an arm around him. "Please. Never leave like that again."

He gave a small nod, it would've been unrecognizable if they hadn't been touching at that moment.

The hand resting against his back reaches up to gently swipe the hair from his eyes, the other rubs his shoulder. Amy can feel Ian close his eyes, his eyelashes lightly tickle her skin. She places a feathery kiss onto his temple, and very slowly begins to (attempt to) rock him to sleep.

Very suddenly, Ian jerks away with widened eyes. He begins to shake, and Amy realizes that he can't sleep because he's afraid to relive whatever it was the Vespers put him through.

She places her hands on the sides of his face, attempting to calm him down by whispering to him and smoothing his hair back. It doesn't take long - even broken, Ian Kabra cannot be seen as weak - but it leaves Amy more worried than when she came in.

She bites her lip, trying to figure out what she's going to do, but Ian reaches up and pulls her lip out from under her teeth.

It takes Amy a few moments to choke out her next words, she can't believe she didn't bother to tell him when she walked in, but she forces them out with a smile. "Natalie is safe."

Ian's eyes widen back up, but they quickly close again as a look of relief controls his features, a sigh passing his lips.

Amy grabs his face again and brings him in to kiss his forehead. "You are so brave." Their noses are touching. Amy can feel now that Ian's breath has regulated since she walked in. Being so close to him made her cheeks flush a bit, but she was far too comfortable to care. "But so stupid."

A quiet chuckle rises from Ian's throat. "Never do that again." He nods.

A few moments of silence. "Are you going to be alright?" A small part of her doesn't want him to answer, just in case it's the negative (she doesn't know what she'd do if he wasn't going to be okay. She needed him to be okay), but she knows that she needs to know no matter what he says.

"Are you going to stay with me?"

His voice is so hoarse, so quiet and not-Ian, that she doesn't initially recognize it as his. He gives her a small nudge with his hand, and she realizes that it was indeed him.

"Yes, of course."

He smiles at her, regaining a bit of his old cocky-flair. "Then, yes. I'll be fine."

She's still technically dating Evan, but he doesn't seem to exist at the moment. Jake either. Ian Kabra is the only one she cares about now, so it's no trouble to her conscience to kiss him. She leans forward just a bit, they aren't that far apart, and lingers much longer than he did two years ago. It feels, in a way, as though it were a continuation - a sequel - to that short lived kiss.

She feels something bubble up in her stomach as she presses her soft lips against his chapped (though she's sure that will be fixed in a matter of days). As she pulled away, the bubbling seems to increase.

And that's all it was, a small peck. Not much of a kiss, she realizes, but that bubbling never popped up when she kissed Evan - at least not to that extent.

Ian keeps his eyes closed, as if to relish the brief moment.

She smiles and tells him to lean back and go to sleep, and that she won't leave him until Natalie comes to see him in the morning.

He still wakes up with nightmares of waterboarding and nails, but he finally has someone to hold him instead of letting him sit with the memories.


	3. Chapter 3

**I kind of really hate this chapter because of how I portrayed Amy at the end, so I apologize advance for that.**

* * *

"And then?"

Ian grimaced, prompting a frown from Amy. She reached up to smooth his hair back, allowing him to relax enough to close his eyes. "I know it's painful, but we need to know."

"Why?" He asked bitterly.

Amy moved her hand so that she was cupping his cheek. "The files. But if you want help, you're going to have to—"

"I don't need _help_."

She grasped both sides of his face and forced him to look towards her. "Ian, please." She bit her lip, Ian reached up to pull her lip from out her teeth again. "Elizabeth… Elizabeth told me… about you trying to comm—"

Ian's eyes hardened. "That was none of her business to tell you."

She stroked his cheek. "Ian, I just want to help you. I-I don't want to lose you. Not like that. Not at all."

He was still angry, she could tell, but his eyes weren't as hard. He was still off, still didn't want to share, but he was a little bit more willing to now. Ian Kabra was a porcelain jar of emotions right now, she needed to make sure she didn't set him off.

(She mostly hoped that he didn't think she was lying, she _was_ worried about him. She really _did_ just want to help him. It was the other Madrigals forcing her to do this. She knew this was the worst thing for Ian to be doing at the moment.)

He closed his eyes. "They tried to use waterboarding on me to get the information."

"What did they do? What technique?"

He shivered. "As many as they could think of. Strapped me to a table, poured it on me. Dunked me in a tub. No cloth or cellophane, either. Hard core waterboarding. They'd wake me up, usually in not-so-fun ways, if I passed out."

She took a shaky breath. "And then?"

"I didn't tell them anything."

"I know, I know. But… did they do anything else?"

"No. You all came after a while of waterboarding."

Amy tried to keep the sob forming in her throat down, but it choked its way out. Ian pulled her into a hug rather quickly, she assumed he knew the signs because of Natalie. She gripped his back rather tightly, though made sure she was only grasping cloth. She let her head drop into the crook of his neck; she was surprised to find that it was a rather nice fit. As her shoulders racked with sobs, Ian brought his damaged hands up to contain her.

She felt so impossibly good in that moment, despite letting herself become a sobbing mess. Something about the way she was against Ian — not quite intimate, but familiar — felt right. It was like the kiss from two nights ago — a continuation, though she didn't know of what.

Ian started to whisper — what sounded like — sweet nothings in her ear. No, he was simply telling her it'd be alright. Not sweet nothings, reassurances.

She started blubbering meaningless apologies, as if she were the one who did this to him. He began to rock them, trying to sooth her. It was almost the complete opposite from before, except Ian hadn't been a sobbing mess. She felt him stroke her hair, trying to calm her down.

"I'm sorry," she choked, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," he whispered, still rocking them, "it's my fault."

"No it's not." She gripped his back tighter.

"I left, I agreed to the plan. There were holes all over it."

She dug herself deeper into his neck. "That doesn't make it your fault."

He rested his head against hers, though gave her temple a quick kiss before doing so. "Just stop crying, Love, I hate to see you hurt like this."

Amy let out a strangled laugh. "You hate to see me hurt? It kills me to see you like this!"

They were silent for a little while, though it wasn't quite as awkward as Amy expected. It was calm, but there was an air about them — as though one of them needed to speak.

"How did you feel," he said it so quietly that Amy barely caught his words, "when Elizabeth told you that I'd…."

Her grip on his back — which had since slacked — tightened up again, fresh tears pricked her eyes. "I didn't feel anything. I was just numb. I just couldn't— Never do that again, Ian. Never."

He nodded, though Amy didn't feel that he was certain with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is, as of now, the final chapter.**

**For those wondering about Elizabeth: she's an OC of mine. She's mentioned again, along with her brother, in this chapter, though she has no real importance to the plot other than moral support for Ian.**

* * *

Ian had finally been checked out of the hospital. That's what Natalie had told her that morning. They were going to stay in America, though, as Ian's doctor didn't want him traveling away. Once she hung up the phone, Amy began work on cleaning the mansion — or at least the parts that would be visited the most — because there was no way in hell she was letting either of the Kabras stay anywhere else. She had made that very clear to Natalie.

They arrived at one, each of them visibly weary. Natalie seemed to try and cover up her sulk with a smile. Ian seemed much better than he had weeks ago, though he was still slumped over and visibly distressed.

Amy enlisted Dan to help carry their suitcases up to their rooms. Knowing that Ian wasn't the best influence for her brother and vise versa, Amy took care of Ian. Once they came to his room (very close to hers and connected to Natalie's by a door), she set down his things and gave him a hug.

"I'm sorry about everything that's happened."

"It's not your fault."

"Elizabeth and Spencer are going to stay in the area, too. I offered them rooms here, but they didn't want to be a bother, so…."

"That's fine."

She reached up to cup his cheek. "Why don't you take a nap? You've had a long day."

He sighed. "I've had a long lifetime."

She leaves him to go to the kitchen, where she finds Natalie watching Nellie cook. She sat down next to Natalie and joined her in watching the birth of a red velvet cake.

(Out of all of the hostages, Nellie seemed to ease back into her life the easiest. When she got to the hospital, she complained about not having a kitchen. Once they let her in the hospital's kitchen, she made dinner for all of the patients._ All _of them.)

Elizabeth and her brother came over to check on Ian, who said that he still wanted to nap. Nellie forced — insisted — that the two stayed for dinner, of which they agreed. Nellie was quick to complement the young girl on her hair style choice (a very Christmas-ey colored ponytail) and Spencer volunteered to help cook as Elizabeth drug Natalie away to watch television.

Amy was left alone, so she drifted off to her room to attempt to finish her winter assignments (although that quickly turned into texting Evan). Once she finished reading _Invisible Man_ (she nearly laughed when it was assigned, having read it five times before on her own time), she settled down for a quick nap before dinner.

Something across the hall — she couldn't quite pinpoint what — interrupted her nap. She went to investigate, ending up outside Ian's door. She opened the door and headed in, discovering that he was not napping. He was on his bed, but what he was doing was _not_ napping.

He was still at the moment, but she could tell that he'd been active only moments before. Hunched up into a ball, his hands raised to cover his eyes, and trembling as if he'd woken from a nightmare. She ran up to him and pulled his hands away, only to discover blood smeared across his forehead. She looked down to his fingers, equally slathered in the substance, only to find them regaining their twitching that had supposedly disappeared a week ago.

She gave his wrists a quick squeeze and told him not to move, then rushed off to the bathroom to get a damp washcloth. She came back in to find him in the position she'd left him in, save his fingers that were now digging into his knees. She detached them and began to clean them (she figured they weren't the source of the blood and thus a better start). She moved up to his forehead, only to discover that just cleaning up the blood wouldn't be enough. She pressed the cloth against his forehead and brought his chin up so that he was looking at her.

"What happened?" She whispered.

There was a dry stream of blood running down his cheek which resembled some kind of tear, but Amy wiped that away quickly.

"I don't know." He choked out. His eyes, which had caged in any and all tears before, let loose one. "I don't know."

She brought his head down to kiss the bridge of his nose. "Did you dream about—"

"No," his voice broke. "I just woke up in a panic, I don't even—"

She shushed him and began smoothing back hair (or what she could, as the washcloth took up much of his forehead). "Do you want me to get Elizabeth or Natalie?"

"No, no." He reached out to grab the loose cloth of her sleeves.

She frowns and removes the washcloth, discovering that the majority the bleeding stopped. She moved around the cloth so that a clean(er) side could work on removing the blood smeared around Ian's forehead. Once he was clean (though a bit of blood still seeping out) Amy went back to the bathroom to get a first aid kit.

She had him lie down so that his head was in her lap. Amy noticed that he only looked at _her_ while she put on some antibiotics. He cringed whenever she smoothed over (smearing more blood — she hadn't quite thought this through) an open wound, though didn't stray his gaze.

She followed the lines he'd made with his nails, the jagged ditches he'd dug into his skin in a state of panic. Even when she was done with her medicine, she continued to trace the lines, as if the repeated motion would make them disappear.

"I think I'll skip dinner." He whispered.

"I can bring you something."

He shook his head, his eyes still focused on her. He brought up a hand to loosely hold her cheek, she grasped it in her own.

She knew what he was thinking, what he was too proud to say. She knew how the conversation would hold out, what each of them would do. It was like her internal conversations with Dan, although those were completely made up in her head and she had no way of knowing at all if that's what Dan was actually thinking or if what she thought was actually how the conversation would go. But she knew with Ian. At least at that moment. Because, more or less, she was thinking the same thing.

And so, unable to carry out their wish of stopping time, she bends down and kisses the lines that would probably be temporary scars — just like her mother and father used to do when she got hurt. Then, unlike her mother and father, she bends further down and kisses his lips.

They were smooth again, much to her relief. Ian _was_ getting better. Because of where her hands were positioned, she could feel Ian's heart beat increase with her own. This time there was a bit more movement to the kiss, but it was still chaste (compared to what she wanted to do, anyway). There was a small flick of a tongue (Amy was too wrapped in the bubbling in her stomach to remember whose), which was as promiscuous as they got.

She realized, when they were done and a few centimeters away from one another, that he (as strange as it sounded) smelled like himself. The clove scent that he always used was present. She smiled at this — he _really was_ getting better — and gave him one last peck.


	5. Chapter 5

**The inspiration for this one came out of the tumblr roleplay, so it's dedicated to the wonderful people over there~**

* * *

"How did you feel?"

Amy looked up from her book to glance at Ian. He, still wearing his reading glasses, was staring at her solemnly. As if he hadn't spoken. She could see the marks on his forehead (he'd had a few other incidents where he hurt himself like he had before, but he'd stopped thanks to some medicine his doctor gave him. Amy knew he wasn't happy with it, though) as he wrinkled his brow in thought.

"Feel about what?" She asked, hoping against hope that he wasn't going to ask what she knew he was going to.

"When you'd found out what had happened to me. How did you feel?"

She closed her book and put it on the table next to the couch, then leaned over to place her head on her hand.

Jonah and Hamilton had told her, they had been the ones who found him - or so she was told, their stories didn't exactly match up. She, like the others, had been celebrating the defeat of the Vespers and the freedom of the hostages. She remember very clearly, she had nightmares occasionally, of Natalie suddenly screaming for Ian, asking where he was. It was then that she knew something was wrong, what a horrible mistake she had made. Natalie had calmed down to a sob when the call came, announcing that they'd found him.

She went over to Natalie to tell her the happy news, that they knew where Ian was and that he was okay (Hamilton hadn't actually told her that, she just wanted Natalie to stop crying). She asked to talk to him, but Hamilton had said that that wouldn't happen.

"He's in really bad condition Ames. He isn't talking and he won't look at anything straight on." And then, in a quiet voice, he added, "I think he's lost it.

"Jonah and I got some information out of one of the guards. They, um," he cleared his throat, "apparently they... Well, they-"

"Hamilton, spit it out!" She'd snapped.

"They tortured him for information."

Amy would've fallen if Natalie and Nellie hadn't been there to catch her (though Nellie let out a small cry of pain when Amy leaned back and accidentally hit her injured shoulder).

"So I guess he isn't the mole! Heh..."

She couldn't remember what she had felt in that moment - disbelief? Natalie and Nellie were obviously worried, but she could only think of how tight she felt. Like something was sitting on her lungs and heart.

"Disbelief," she finally decided was right after all, "I just couldn't believe that something like that could happen to the great and mighty Ian Kabra."

"I'm not great and mighty," he mumbled, turning a page in the book he was(n't) reading.

"Sure you are," she tried to smile for him, but he wouldn't look up. "Junior Chess Champion at eight, internationally known for your _amazing_ polo skills, fluent in like ten languages, can convince anyone of anything, you're-"

"I couldn't convince you all that I wasn't the mole."

Amy's mouth was still formed around her next word, but she couldn't find it anymore. Was he accusing her, putting her on the spot? No, the look in his eyes was hurt. He wasn't accusing, he was stating truth.

And he was right, he wasn't able to convince them he wasn't the mole. They'd needed someone to blame, and he fit the bill perfect. Except that he wasn't the mole. So he left.

Then she remembered why he left, what had upset him so much that he felt he needed to go and prove himself.

Her.

She'd done this to him.

Her new found discovery in mind, she turned down quickly to continue reading her book, only to find her empty lap. She didn't grab for it, just stared at her hands. Because of her outrageous outburst, Ian had gotten hurt. So, so hurt and it was _all her fault_.

"It's not your fault," he said, though she could only barely hear him.

She had done this to him. Isabel was the one who did it, but Amy had allowed for it to happen.

She remembered the look Natalie had given her after she found out what had happened to Ian. Halfway between shock and reality, the first of many tears making their way down her cheeks. "You said he was fine," she choked out. "You told me he was _okay_!"

She caused that.

It was her fault.

She jumped when Ian touched her shoulder. She looked up to him, mouth open wide in shock.

He looked down at her with concern. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault."

"I'm so sorry." A small tear cascaded down her cheek.

Ian bent further down to pull her into a hug, assuring her that it wasn't her fault, it wasn't her fault.


End file.
